


Bait

by Rrismo



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Lalo's ankles, M/M, Nacho took it very literally when Gus told him to "get close to Lalo", Seduction, Strip Tease, basically Lalo and Nacho play a game of truth or dare, implied past Salamancas/Nacho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrismo/pseuds/Rrismo
Summary: Lalo regarded him for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. “A different kind of poker, eh…?”, he chuckled and accepted the bottle from Nacho. “I think I already know the rules!” Lalo’s grin saidthis ought to be good, but his eyes said something different.Clumsy.Nacho returned the crooked smile. “I doubt you do.”Who do you take me for.The first Lacho fic!
Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca / Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Comments: 35
Kudos: 170





	Bait

A couple years back, there had been a rat infestation at El Michoacáno. It’s always hard to keep the little pests away, but in this particular case they had all but taken over the storage spaces. Rat shit around the trash, rat shit on the shelves, rat shit in the product. 

Of course, Tuco had tasked no one other than Nacho to deal with the problem. Fortunately, he was savvy from back when the Molina’s shop had been dealing with similar troubles. Tuco’s other guys had been trying to catch the critters for weeks, setting up traps all over the place - to little avail. The animals were too smart, their sense of smell too keen for them to fall for these clumsy ruses.

The trick was to first put out deactivated traps for a couple of days. Let the animals eat from them, get accustomed to your smell, lure them into a false sense of security, before you activate the traps. You won’t catch a single rat if they don’t associate your smell with treats and safety first.

 _Baiting Lalo is no different_ , Nacho told himself. Sure, this rat was six feet tall and capable of manslaughter, but in and of itself, the approach was the same. And not entirely new to Nacho either. There was a language very common to the Salamancas, and after working with five of them, Nacho was fluent by now.

But Lalo wasn’t like the others. Usually, a Salamanca couldn’t hide his intentions if his life depended on it. Their viciousness was always there, right on their faces. Out of all the Salamancas Nacho had met, Lalo was the first one who possessed restraint, and one hell of a poker face to boot. Meaningless flattery and feigned respect meant jack shit to him. Finding out what made him tick would maybe end up in a game of cat-and-mouse, but Nacho was up for a good gamble. He’d been doing nothing else for the past couple of years of his life.

In any case, if this was supposed to work, Nacho needed the man’s full attention.

It was poker night when Nacho saw the perfect opportunity. Lalo had his feet propped up on the table the entire time through. His cropped trousers and loafers left quite some room for his ankles, especially when he presented them like that. Which, incidentally, he did almost all the time. _What a completely normal thing to show off with_ , Nacho thought. Now that he couldn’t help but stare at them, Nacho had to admit they were nice though.

When everyone got up to leave, Nacho insisted on an additional round. Just like he had planned, Lalo took the bait. But with his mind focused on the card game, he was too busy to take much notice of Nacho. They sat all alone in the dimly lit room, on opposing sides of the table. Low hanging lights illuminated the cards, and when their game was done, their glasses were almost empty. Nacho stared at the chips lined up in front of him. Lalo yawned.

He had to act, and he had to do it now.

“Another beer?”, Nacho asked casually and got up.

“I don’t know, man.” Lalo stretched his arms. “I think I might head home as well.”

“Suit yourself”, Nacho said, getting two bottles of beer from the freezer. “But if you want, we can have one last round. Something else this time.”

Nacho could almost see Lalo perk his ears. “What do you have in mind?”

“A different kind of poker”, Nacho replied.

Lalo regarded him for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. “A different kind of poker, eh…?”, he chuckled and accepted the bottle from Nacho. “I think I already know the rules!” Lalo’s grin said _this ought to be good,_ but his eyes said something different. _Clumsy_.

Nacho returned the crooked smile. “I doubt you do.” _Who do you take me for._

He settled down across from Lalo again and poured himself a drink. “You and I take turns telling each other something about ourselves. The other has to guess whether it’s true or false. First one to guess wrong loses.”

That rekindled Lalo’s interest. “What are we playing for?”, he asked.

Nacho shrugged and let his gaze wander from the bottle of beer in his hands on the table in front of him up to Lalo, dark eyes meeting dark eyes over a table full of gambling chips. “We’ll see.”

Lalo held his gaze for as long as was appropriate, then a bit longer. Eventually, he took his feet off the table and nodded. “Alright, sounds fun! I go first.” He pondered for a moment, almost comically scrunching up his nose and tapping his chin with one finger while he was thinking.

Part of Nacho wanted to go crawl over the table and strangle him to death.

“Right, listen. I once got completely shit-faced. I used a shortcut on my way home, through the backyards.” Lalo mimicked a sneaking motion with this hands while talking animatedly. “It was a pitch dark night, and I didn’t see my pool, so I fell into it. I crawled out, soaking wet, opened the backdoor, and fell asleep on the couch. Next day, I got woken up by the police, got handcuffed, yelled at, the whole nine yards: Turns out I hadn’t ended up in my home. I had accidentally broken into someone else's.” He finished his story, opened up his beer bottle, took a swig and looked at Nacho expectantly. “True or false?”

Under different circumstances, Nacho would have actually found this story amusing. Or at least picturing Lalo wasted and wet all over would have been. “True”, he answered.

“That’s right, very good! Your turn!” Nacho still felt like the interest in Lalo’s voice was not entirely earnest.

“Okay, so, there was this guy, he owed us some money”, Nacho started. “Hadn’t seen him in ages. So I got my guys and we paid him a visit. He was there alright, but where do we find him? In the chicken coop, filthy and scrawny-looking. His wife had caged him there for three months over some fight they had. True or false?”

“Interesting story!”, Lalo said cheerfully and raised his bottle in an acknowledging gesture. There was not a trace of tiredness left in his face. “Way more interesting than mine. I’d say it’s true!”

Nacho nodded and Lalo’s grin got a hint bigger.

“A shorter one from me this time!”, Lalo said, and indeed, without much ado, he declared: “When he was a teenager, my cousin Tuco stole my gun and accidentally shot himself in the dick with it. True or false?”

“False”, Nacho replied.

Lalo raised both eyebrows and tilted his head, eyes narrowing the slightest bit. “That was fast.”

Without paying that remark any notice, Nacho continued. “My turn.” He pretended to ponder for a moment, thoughtfully tracing his collarbone with the fingers of one hand. He gave Lalo another calculated look and said: “I have a piece of bone in my body that isn’t mine. True or false?” 

That gave Lalo pause. He let his eyes linger on Nacho’s hand on his collarbone, and traced down Nacho’s body, no doubt wondering where he could have the additional piece of bone, what it looked like, imagining patches of Nacho’s skin underneath his clothes, whether it was lodged in his shoulder, his chest, his hip, his back, his thighs... Lalo took a big gulp from his bottle. The corner of Nacho’s mouth curled into a smile.

“True”, Lalo finally grinned, gaze shooting up again. “If only because I hope it’s true.”

“Yeah.” Nacho nodded.

 _Can I see it?,_ he read in Lalo’s curious gaze.

“Your next story”, Nacho said and shifted in his chair.

There was a hint of reluctance before Lalo started talking. “My neighbor had a dog. Really cute.” He held out a hand at about the height of the table. “Really liked that mutt. One time, the police were on my ass. They wanted to lock me up for murder. Some guy who knew a guy that I knew. Only they couldn’t prove it, cause they never found the body.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Cause you fed it to the dog”, Nacho filled in the blanks tonelessly.

“Clever boy.” Lalo grinned. “Anyway. True or false?”

Nacho fruitlessly searched for a hint of the truth in Lalo’s face. Every bit of readability was gone, just like when they were playing poker. 

There was a certain dead eyed gaze that came to mind, and Nacho chased it away. This was completely different from the way Fring regarded him. Fring’s expression was steely, cold, hollow. Lalo on the other hand was searing mirth and deadly charm.

“True”, Nacho said.

Lalo brushed his fingers over his mustache. “You think I’m capable of something like this.” He didn’t seem to plan on making it clear whether it had been a question or a statement, shrewdness lurking beneath the amiable surface.

Nacho remained still. The silence hung between them, and they were back to studying each other, each waiting for the other one to make a move.

Finally, a chuckle came from Lalo. “I’m just fucking with you, man.” He clapped his hands together. “I’d never do something like that. The poor dog! Then again, he probably wouldn’t have given a damn.”

Neither did Nacho.

“Looks like I won.” Lalo raised his arms and folded his fingers behind his head. He looked insufferably pleased with himself. “So, what’s it gonna be, Nachito?”

Finally, Nacho had Lalo where he wanted him. He took a slow and deliberate swig from his drink, eyes fixed on Lalo. Nacho got up, and paced toward him, two fingers tracing along the tabletop. 

By now, Lalo had to have gotten a hint as to where this was going. But if he did, he didn’t show it. That unnerving smile of his was still plastered to his face, unchanged, inscrutable, like an offensively complacent sphinx.

Nacho couldn’t even care enough to let that deter him. His hands were already sliding up his shirt and undid the first button, one with every heavy step, until he stood right in front of Lalo, shirt open. Lalo remained motionless, his gaze still on Nacho. Interested, curious, leisurely. Like a cat that has already eaten watches a toy.

Alright, a one-man show it was. Nacho squared his shoulders and tugged the shirt off his arms. His fingers brushed his neck chain, and the light scar covering the piece of skull bone in his shoulder. He tilted his head back the slightest bit, exposing his neck to Lalo and looking at him from under half-lidded eyes.

No reaction.

Time for more drastic measures, Nacho decided. He was so close to Lalo by now that their knees were touching. A heat had started pooling in his belly at the sight of the seemingly indifferent man before him. He needed… no… wanted to wipe that look off his face. Lalo didn’t even flinch when one of Nacho’s hands shot forward and grabbed the backrest of Lalo’s chair, as he straddled the man’s legs with his own. It wasn’t time to touch Lalo though, not yet. Instead, Nacho sat down on Lalo’s thighs and squeezed them with his own. He let his left hand slide down his own chest and belly, to the hem of his muscle shirt. His right hand joined in pulling the black piece of clothing off his body. Nacho did make sure to show off his biceps and serratus in the process. There was no reason for him to be shy about the fact that he was proud of his body.

Carelessly, Nacho tossed the muscle shirt aside and let his hands come down on his thighs with a heavy smack. The fabric of his pants rustled as he dragged his hands upwards to the buckle of his belt. His eyes stayed on Lalo as he undid it, but without scrutiny. He wasn’t worried. He knew this would work. It always did. 

Nacho pushed down his ass on Lalo’s thigh a bit harder and gave a barely audible husky groan.

For the fraction of a second, Lalo’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. That was all the encouragement Nacho needed. Hiding a smirk, he slid down to his knees between Lalo’s legs. Just because Lalo had finally thrown him a bone didn’t mean that Nacho would make this easy for him. He rested his head against the inside of Lalo’s thigh, and nuzzled it, pressed mouth and nose into the warm fabric of Lalo’s pants. He took a deep breath of the light, warm scent of leather and sweat. Truth be told, Nacho couldn’t wait for these pants to be gone. _Patience_ , he chided himself, bared his teeth and let them brush the cloth right over Lalo’s dick. He didn’t even care to look up at Lalo anymore, whose hands were laying on the armrest now. Nacho could feel them twitching to grab him by the back of his neck.

With a few trained movements, Nacho opened Lalo’s belt buckle and pulled down his pants enough to reveal the underwear underneath. The sight of Lalo’s dick filling out the trunks made Nacho bite his lips and suck in air through his teeth. Anticipation filled him from head to toe, his mouth watered at the thought of having Lalo ram this down his throat.

Nacho seized Lalo’s hips with both hands and pressed his lips to the bulge, finally drawing a noise from the other man. Strangely, that didn’t satisfy Nacho at all. It only made him hungry for more. He dragged his tongue over Lalo’s fabric-covered dick, soaking the underwear with saliva. To cover up the quiet, desperate whine that had just escaped him, Nacho dug his fingers into Lalo’s hips. Pictures emerged in his head, pictures of Lalo grabbing him with both hands, mocking him, mercilessly holding onto him, choking him, making him his bitch.

It was like a physical release when Nacho finally freed Lalo’s hard cock from the drool-soaked trunks, greedier than he wanted, and swallowed him whole. The surprised yelp coming from Lalo barely registered with him, he was already busy sucking Lalo off so hard and with so little concern for his own well-being that he made himself see stars. All by itself, Nacho’s hand had found its way into his pants and jerked him off with all the mercy and tenderness of a broken beer bottle to the head.

Finally, _finally_ , Lalo’s hands reached for Nacho’s shoulders, kneaded them, and held onto his head. Lalo’s groaning only reached Nacho through a thick haze, and when Lalo’s hips jerked against Nacho’s fingers, Nacho felt tears stinging in his eyes from the strain on his throat. Drool and cum spilled from his lips, down onto his own hand, as he came so hard he forgot where he was for a second.

The room was spinning around Nacho when he opened his eyes again, and his lashes were heavy with tears. His head was resting against Lalo’s leg once more, his arms had fallen around Lalo’s legs, making his fingers brush Lalo’s ankles. Nacho gazed up at the other man. He looked pleased, surprised even. But there was finally no smug grin pulling at his lips anymore.

Lalo gave him two affectionate pats on the cheek and let his thumb rest right under Nacho’s jaw. The hand felt warm, and Nacho resisted the temptation to close his eyes. “Ignacio Varga… you keep surprising me.” Lalo chuckled. It seemed to be the most earnest thing he had said this entire evening. He gently nudged Nacho away to get up. “Let’s do that again some time!”

Nacho wiped his chin and nodded. He wasn’t so sure anymore who had fallen into whose trap here.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love feedback, so if you liked it, I'd be happy to know your thoughts.


End file.
